The Greatest Expectations
by Sydsushi
Summary: Quinn is hired to write the memoirs of an eccentric billionaire and his family. To find inspiration she immerses herself in thier world but will she be able to stay true to her values or fall into temptation. Quinn/Santana pairing.
1. Prologue

Hey guys! This is my first story so go easy :P. Just my take on a Fitzgerald/Charles Dickens like world with my favorite characters thrown in. I am in no way comparable to these writers but I try to make the world as believable as I can in a modern setting.

This is a Quinn/Santana story so if that's not your thing then please don't read.

I don't own any of these characters sadly.

**The Greatest Expectations**

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Prologue

There's something about the city; the way the dirt and grime integrate perfectly with architecture akin to that of Babylonian ziggurats, hard stone and cool metal forming cyclopean spires that seem to reach so high they could touch the heavens. New York, the city of dreams and dashed hopes, thriving on the loss of wishes and out of reach desires... and to think I chose this over a city named after angels?

I watch the streets go by in a blur like scenes from an old time movie; the corners and dark alley ways lined with those who trade their bodies to the lonely for pittance. There's a slight cringe that runs through me when I make the comparisons to my surroundings against the scenes from outside, the smell of fresh Italian leather and mahogany against what I can assume is the aroma of gutter water and sulfur.

I had been summoned... requisitioned if you will; to write the memoirs of an eccentric billionaire and his family. He was a man of fortune and extreme wit; his brassiness and gallantry legend in the inner circle of his decadent society. Aside from his reputation of charitable donations to the obvious organizations and being the father of a war hero and an accomplished athlete; he was an insatiable lush and womanizer who became too rich too young. Of course those facts would be omitted from my chronicle of his privileged legacy, but they were facts that I would make sure to keep in the back of my mind. To be drawn into this world and to partake of its fruit is something I never wanted, but my own dreams will be within my reach if I were to do this and I can only hope they don't fall sacrifice to the city and the craven social scene I'm willingly plunging myself into.

In my peripheral I'm reminded that I'm not alone, my escort had been suspiciously quiet up to this point which was starting to greatly peak my interest, I turned in his direction to find him watching me; a mindful smile on his features.

"You writers… you're always brooding. I hope not due to your accommodations though? I was very particular in choosing your transportation for the upmost comfort." He said, seeming to seek my approval. I gave a short nod and smiled.

"Of course not Mr. Schuester, I would have been more than happy to take a cab; you and Mr. Puckerman didn't need to go through all this trouble."

He simply smiled wider and shook his head in disapproval.

"As I've told you; call me Will and you give yourself too little credit! You're an amazing writer; a cab would pale in comparison to the social standing your work reflects. Mr. Puckerman really is a huge fan of your musings and articles, he could think of no one better to write his memoirs."

His tone hinted that I should feel prideful, maybe even lucky that a man like Daniel Puckerman found my work in high caliber. I could only imagine what a man with his wealth and circumstance could be like in person.

Daniel Puckerman was a self-made man by all intents and purposes. He grew up on the out skirts of Alaska, his family so poor that by the age of fifteen it only saw fit that he start working. We were a country looking for self-preservation at that time; our dependence on foreign oil so great that the American government was in a desperate need to find its own resources. Private companies started to move in, hiring locals as labors; riding on patriotic ideals and a fair wage. It was kindred to another gold rush of sorts, thousands migrating to the Alaskan tundra to find what was most precious and most rare. The pay-off seemed out of reach and convoluted at best, a promise of compensation for any group that were to find a sustainable source of oil would be greatly rewarded.

By eighteen it seemed as though all his efforts were for naught, most by that time had given up; saying the government was chasing a false hope. The company that he had been contracted by was on the outs, one of the few that remained mainly on the premise that they had to find something, anything to keep the company afloat.

It is said that on his twentieth birthday his father passed; fate dealt by a hard life and a cancer that spread far too quickly. His mother had long died before that so he found himself the lone proprietor of his well-being. But he had grown up on those ice fields, the man who ran the company (Maxwell DuPont) he was contracted for becoming more of a father figure than a figure head. The story has been told countless times before, becoming more embellished by time and word of mouth but the plot was the same. A young rogue working only with his hands and tools manufactured by the U.S of A, Toiling for years and finally receiving the means to the end of his poverty and grief stricken existence. He was a self-made man, a young gun who by hard work made a fortune for himself and the company who procured him. When DuPont died out of unusual circumstance two years later, Daniel Puckerman became even wealthier. DuPont, having no heir and no family saw only fit to leave the company and its fortune in Puckermans hands.

DuPont/Puckerman industries were now the leading supplier in American oil as well some aspects of the tech industry. His story was grand, a true spectacle of the American Dream, one that I was chosen to put on paper to retain a legacy that Daniel Puckerman felt should not be forgotten.

I was so deep in thought that I barely noticed concrete and steel turn to wide open space and green foliage. Curious, I turned my attention back to my escort.

"I thought I was to be staying at the Waldorf?"

Will smirked like he had been caught with his had in the cookie jar.

"Oh no, Mr. Puckerman has decided that you might be more comfortable at his estate in the Hamptons. Too many distractions in the city, he is most at home when surrounded by fresh air and his family."

My nerves were slightly soothed by this news, being in a depressing cityscape was by far the worst setting to write a memoir based on hope and resilience.

"So I am to assume his son Jacob will also be in company then?" I asked, my tone expressed muted curiosity but I was teeming with intrigue. Jacob Puckerman was a very private young man; often seeming bothered by his father's legacy and the attention it brought him. Up until now he was enrolled at Yale, his major undecided but his athletic ability alone bringing him recognition to any college football fan or regular resident of the New York tri-state area.

"Oh yes, he is on holiday from school and has decided to spend Christmas at home this year. Of course the main event of all of this is the return of Mr. Puckermans oldest son; Noah. He's finished his tour with the military and for the first time in four years he will be home for good. Mr. Puckerman is beside himself with relief and joy as you can imagine."

His smile was beaming, obviously sharing in his employs elation. Noah was far different from his younger brother, Jacob was quiet and reserved and never liked to bring attention onto himself while Noah thrived from it; constantly giving interviews from the military base he was stationed about his "excursions" in the Middle East. I can only imagine how happy they were to be rid of him, a true security risk if there ever was one. No one could say that he wasn't brave though; too brave may have been the fact. He was always signing up for the most dangerous missions, practically walking away from Hilo crashes and saving his fellow soldiers from most certain death. Noah Puckerman was in every sense a war hero with the ego to boot.

"Well what more could a writer ask for? The greatest maverick of our time in his own setting; surrounded by his equally enigmatic sons."

Will chuckled; his tone was deep and held something I could not place.

"Don't worry Miss Fabray; I'm sure you will have a tale or two to tell by the end of your stay."

A strange sense of foreshadowing came over me, like somehow he already knew what I was in store for; the feeling sat uneasily with me. To be drawn into this world and to partake of its fruit is something I never wanted.


	2. Where I Come From

Thanks for the reviews guys! I kinda rushed this through so please forgive the mistakes. I've named the chapters after songs they inspire, feel free to check them out if you want.

The Passion Pit: Where I Come From

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**Chapter 1: Where I Come From**

My work has never been defined by a single individual; pure inspiration was what I usually strove for. The shock of it and how an idea could shake you straight to your bones; so much that you had to express it in some way or form. I needed no one but myself for my work, with my sheer sense of self and pure talent of observation to what was going on around me; I had carved a notch for myself in the literary world large enough to get me noticed by one of the most revered men of the time.

Often my writing came from life experience, no sense of fiction but rather a new take on what state I found my surroundings to be in. It was this that left me uneasy about this particular assignment, my writing though based in realism was merely just a play on how the world was perceived to me; and this world that I was so reluctantly thrust into did not come sunny side up in my opinion.

How could I write about a Howard Hughes like figure whose life was half real and half exaggerated? I could barely tell what was fact and what was just simply a product of over embellishment. I was the first outsider (and most likely the last) that had ever been invited into his world and I intended to make the most of it. Daniel Puckerman was a very mysterious figure and if not only for my sense of curiosity let alone the book; I intended to leave here with some answers; some explanation for this "man of the people".

The estate came into view then, rising over the rolling hills of south Hampton; almost royal in its stature. I was so far from the city now and felt almost ironic how I felt more in touch with reality when I was surrounded by despair than in a utopia of wonder and intrigue.

What was wrong with me? This was a writer's dream, to be immersed in a Fitzgerald like world and surrounded by inspiration at every turn, the immaculate venues of south Hampton, riding towards a gothic castle owned by a maverick made from unusual circumstance; with his eunuch-like butler in a jet black high gloss chariot. It was perfect, so why could I not shake this uncertain feeling? I could chalk it up to nerves, the fear of failing when all was right within my grasp; it just almost seemed... too easy, like all if this was on purpose for some reason.

My thoughts faded into the background as we came upon the Puckerman compound, the gothic style mansion casting a foreboding shadow over the suns glare reflected in my passenger side window. I barely noticed Wills departure from the seat next to mine to the front of my door, his hand extended out as he opened it for me. I had a sense of deja-vu as a Cheshire cat smile spread across his thin lips. His arm retained its perfect posture; the tips of his fingers extended out perfectly towards the gargantuan entrance of the mansion as his other hand gently grasped mine to help me out of the limousine. I was reminded of Dante's inferno then, right before the judgment; when every soul takes the journey to King Minos on Charon's vessel.

"Through me you pass into the city of woe:  
Through me you pass into eternal pain:  
Through me among the people lost for aye.  
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:  
To rear me was the task of power Devine,  
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.  
Before me things create were none, save things eternal. And eternal I endure.  
All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

I chuckled softy, my god what was wrong with me? I hadn't been here five minutes and I was already quoting Dante's inferno. I was defiantly letting my nerves get the best of me, I haven't even met the man yet and here I am making comparisons to the nine circles of hell.

My body relaxed as I took a deep breath and accepted Wills hand. He led me up a set of grand marble steps towards  
the main entrance, the gold and black archway at the door resembled a pattern of interlaced twines; it was as sophisticated as it was macabre.

Will pushed open the double doors with such grandeur they seemed to move in slow motion, as they parted a lone figure was revealed. His attire screamed wealth but conveyed leisure as he slowly descended the steps. His jet black hair evenly gelled and quaffed, lips spread into a wide smile to reveal straight and perfectly white teeth; he extended his arms out towards me like a long lost relative returning home.

"My god look at you! William you didn't mention she was such a beauty, come here girl let me get a good look at you."

He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, holding me slightly out as his eyes roamed over me, not in a sexual way but in more of an admiring once over, as if I had not only met his expectations but greatly exceeded them.

"Now I don't often say this without a twinge of farce but you are truly a vision and I am honored to have you in my home." He said, giving my shoulders a squeeze before gesturing me into a large sitting room.

It was a beautiful grand space with cream colored walls and black inlay, at the forefront was a large glass window dawning ruby red curtains. A balcony from the second floor hung above a large bookcase holding thousands of old world looking novels, the smell of old parchment and redwood invaded my senses as I looked upon them. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips as I ran my fingers over the spines, the tips dipping into creases from where they had been opened.

"Surprised? I may be from the middle of nowhere but I am very fond of a good book miss Fabray." I turned to find him watching me, his hands extended behind his back as Will slipped a ruby red smoking jacket on to him.

"Oh no sir, far from it; I've heard of your literary prowess...it's just...seeing it up close-" I stammered, both from embarrassment that he might get that sort of impression from me and the mere fact that I had never been surrounded by so much literature in my life. His laugh boomed as he came closer to me, his finger grasping one of the books and popping it out without even a second look.

"I'm just teasing you honey, here. Take in some light reading while you're here." He handed me a leather bound book, it was lined in blue with black rimming; I read the title that was scripted in gold.

"Great Expectations!" I gasped. He merely shrugged as if him knowing my favorite book should be of no surprise to me.

"A true classic." I whispered almost to myself. I was humming with anticipation; I could tell it was at least a first or second printing, definitely not one of those photoshopped paper back printings they sell at second rate book stores.

"You can marvel over it later my dear; I need you ready for the celebration. How can you observe me and my family if your nose is in a book?" He waved his hand towards Will who one grabbed my belongings and then held out his hand. I reluctantly handed over the book and watched with woe as he hoisted it under his arm and moved out of the room with my things.

"Don't you worry honey; you'll have plenty of time for leisure while you're here but now is the time for work! My sons arrive tonight and I have set forth the biggest celebration the likes of which these stuffed shirts have never seen." He said as he guided me towards the steps by my shoulder. He led me down a long hall lined with cream and gold, when we reached the last door he swung the door open, smirking at the way my jaw dropped when I saw where I was to be staying.

"William is in the process of moving all of your belongings into the walk in, he is at your disposal as much as he is at mine. While within my care you shall want for nothing my dear." He guided me into my room and let me take it in completely.

The smell of rich mahogany and spice filled the air. I ran my fingertips over the dark marble of the crackling fireplace; its warmth instantly affecting my body as my shoulders relaxed completely taken by the comfort I was surrounded by. My bed was soft and plush, the sheets silk and comforter filled with goose down. I was speechless as I made my way to the walk in closet; my clothes lined the walls, neatly organized by casual to evening ware. I felt the soft fabric of a dress I didn't recognize; as if sensing my curiosity Mr. Puckerman was behind me, reaching around to take the dress of the hanger.

"I also took into account that you might need a few extra gowns for certain events. You'll be wearing this dress to the party tonight, I can't have you blending into the background my dear, I want you right in the forefront." He held the dress in front of me as he turned me to the mirror, his hands pinning my shoulder length hair past the nape of my neck. His hands were soft, and so oddly gentle that I couldn't believe that these were the hands of a man who had toiled for years in the tundra of Alaska.

I hadn't even put the dress on but I could tell it would look stunning; it was a slim fitting number in black with gold accents. It seemed the black and gold theme was favored by Mr. Puckerman, sort of cliché for a man who made his fortune in what was considered black gold.

"Be ready by eight, if you should want for anything... Anything my dear, William will assist you." He gave me a reassuring smile before leaving me. I looked to my reflection, the dress draped over me like a second skin. The man was certainly enigmatic, a little too comfortable in my personal space but not in an invasive way. I would make sure to keep an eye on him tonight; if all of this was a facade I would be vigilant and look out for any cracks.

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There was one thing that I could say for sure about Daniel Puckerman and that was that he had incredible taste and a good eye for a ladies figure. Not only did the dress fit perfectly but I looked stunning. To add on top of it; Will unexpectedly showed up at the front of my door with a slim velvet box. Before I could question his reasons he slid the top of the box open to reveal a gorgeous black and gold jeweled necklace. I gasped, my hand clasped over my chest as he gestured for me to turn around.

"Mr. Puckerman loves finishing touches." He murmured as he slid the necklace around my slim neck, his fingers gently patting down each jewel to make sure they were all in place.

"Will... I... You can't. What if something happens...? I'll never be able to afford..." I stammered aimlessly as he simply smiled and tutted me to silence.

"Don't be silly Miss Fabray; you are perfectly capable of the responsibility... And incredibly stunning might I add." He swooned as he looked over my figure, gesturing for me to turn this way and that; I laughed as I held out my arms and spun. The apprehension I had felt before in the limo was long gone, replaced by a sense of ease. I was growing fond of him and I hoped that impression would last, it was a nice thought that at least one person was exactly who they seemed to be.

I was brought out of my pondering by the sound of glass breaking and a string of raised voices. I turned to Will who immediately averted his eyes, as the shouting got louder. I eyed him carefully before making my way out my room and into the hall. I could hear the voices clearer now; a male voice speaking in a harsh whisper, growing more impatient as I moved closer to the open door of what looked like a study. I could see a tall figure with medium build looming over a feminine form at the edge of a large wooden desk. I couldn't see her face but he was gripping her cream colored gown at the hip, the fabric twisting between his fingers as he willed her closer.

"-You unemotional bitch, do you have any idea what I've been through? I'm a god damn war hero and I have to come home to this? A fucking cold shoulder?! If I was of lower class I'd-"

As if sensing my presence the man turned; his eyes went from wild to surprised and then to a practiced cool, he smirked as he adjusted his uniform and quickly made his way to the opening between the door and its frame. I leaned slightly to see who he was dealing the tongue lashing to but the female figure immediately turned and grabbed a glass from the bar, her other hand already on the decanter. He moved into my line of vision then and I leaned cautiously back, taking notice of his dressings. The dark blue coat with red trimming gave him away immediately; I couldn't help the audible gulp I took as I stood face to face with Daniel Puckermans pride and joy.

"Well, well you must be that writer daddy keeps going on about, Quinn right? I'm Noah... Noah Puckerman." He put on a dashing smile as closed the door more in on himself.

"Yes I um... I know, I'm sorry for intruding I heard shouting and I... I uh I'll just go back to my room...sorry." I went to turn but he wrapped his hand around my elbow and gently pulled me back as he slid from the door and closed it behind him.

"That's fine honey, no harm in looking; I would have done the same. I must apologize, that sort of behavior does not become me, and I'm very pleasant company I can assure you. It's just I've found myself without an escort for my introduction and I was merely venting my frustrations to an old friend." The words flowed from his mouth like liquid honey, so practiced and perfect, he might as well have been a carbon copy of his father.

"It's quite all right; it's your first day back I can't imagine the pomp and circumstance you've had to endure." I said, trying to steer away from the fact that he had just caught me leering. He laughed and nodded in agreement, the lines around his cheeks creasing in what seemed to be a genuine smile. He was rather good looking in a roguish kind of way, much like his father. I could see why he was considered the favorite; the endearment daddy did not go unnoticed by me and often something so childish coming from a grown man would seem off putting but not with him, somehow it made perfect sense.

"So what do you say?" I looked up to find him staring at me, his eyebrow arched expectedly. We had it made it back to my room and I had barely even noticed. I found myself blushing at my obvious lack of attention.

"Um...?"

His smile spread wider as he noticed my flushed cheeks. He leaned in closer, his hand resting on the side of the frame as if blocking me from escape.

"I asked if you'd be so kind as to escort me for my introduction."

I pursed my lips and gave him a questioning look.

"Your introduction?"

His head fell back languidly as he chuckled.

"Yes, my introduction back into this... Oh so fun and endearing society. If I'm to be reintroduced I need the prettiest girl on my arm, I won't have it any other way."

My blushed deepened as I looked away, my eyes falling on the door to the study.

"You might prefer someone more familiar with the customs, I'm sure if you asked your friend again... Maybe a little more calmly she'd be glad to-"

He put his finger over my lips to silence me and cupped my chin gently as he turned my head back to him.

"Honey I assure you, she ain't interested and why would I go and do that when I've got the perfect escort right here. Isn't this what you're supposed to do anyway, immerse yourself to get know the family better? Plus what a shame it would be to waste such a pretty dress by standing in the background."

He was good, maybe even better than his father. I bit the corner of my bottom lip and slowly nodded, taking heed to his advice. His smile brightened as he pushed away from the wall and extended his arm out to me. I took it and smiled graciously as he led me down the hall towards the staircase. It gave me Goosebumps to hear the loud whispers coming from just around the corner. I could almost picture them all, lined up around the end the opulent marble stair way, waiting in bated breath for the return of their prince.

"I'll tell you this though, you know those girls you can write home to? The ones that keep you together, keep you sane when shit really hits the fan out there for you?"

I nodded, deciding to take the silent route on this. He stopped me then, right at the corner before turning to me with what looked like unrestricted dejection.

"That girl... That... That one there honey... Is not one of them."

As soon as it left his lips he turned, his mask back on as he lead me out to the audience waiting for him. He smiled and waved as the crowd cheered, black and gold confetti falling all around us as he put on the perfect show; twirling me around and showing me off to his fans. I could see his father, his light pink suit with white pin stripes making him stand out; obviously beaming with pride as he clapped enthusiastically, a cigar hanging loosely from his lips. I had only been here a short time and I was teaming with intrigue, so much in one day, so many mysteries to uncover.

Will had been right, in the last five hours I had found more than a tale or two tell. It was when Will appeared from nowhere again, handing me a glass of champagne, did my thoughts drift to the mysterious girl in the study. Noah's face had shown so much hurt when he spoke of her and I was determined to find out why.


End file.
